Research
by annaliesegrace
Summary: Fluffy bit of Holmes and Watson. No real plot.


Title: Research

Author: Anna

Summary: No real plot here, just Watson and Holmes dancing. Literally, that's it. Shrug.

AN: This totally popped into my head when I heard that "Shut Up and Dance" song on the radio like weeks ago. I finally figured out how to end it. So here you go. Enjoy.

Side note: I am still working on Chapter 2 of Envy, its just slow going and RL is a harsh mistress. I cleansed my brain so to speak with this one.

Reviews are as always, lovely.

* * *

Opening the door, the sound of music assaulted her ears immediately. It was loud, but instead of the typical hard rock, a slow waltz reverberated off the walls of the brownstone.

"Great," she mumbled while dropping her purse. Then, while reluctantly moving into the library sighed, "What is he trying to cover up now?"

As she reached the threshold, Joan came up short, more than surprised at what she saw. All the furniture in both the library and the adjacent office had been moved to the walls, making a large somewhat open area.

And in the middle of the now barren room, Sherlock Holmes was dancing. Alone.

Sure he hadn't seen her, Joan watched a moment as he waltzed around the room, eyes closed, moving expertly to the beat of the music, hands in position, even imitating an occasion turn.

"Are you just going to stand there?" he finally said above the music, eyes still closed.

"You're dancing."

"It appears your observation skills are as sharp as ever, Watson."

She rolled her eyes at his snark. "Why?"

"Research."

"Research," she parroted. "What kind of research?"

"Ahhh, that is a long story that is better told when I am not spinning in circles."

Of course it was.

"And you're doing it alone because…"

One eye cracked open as he approached her. "I didn't have a partner….Until now."

As he passed by her, one arm gracefully reached out and grasped her forearm, pulling her with him. She squeaked in surprise and it wasn't quite seamless, she stumbled slightly before falling in step and following his lead. Effortlessly they moved into a proper waltz hold; his right hand on her shoulder blade, her left on his shoulder, their other hands clasped together at head height, a respectable distance between them.

Watson hadn't danced like this in years. Growing up her parents had enrolled her in a ballroom class, and while she'd enjoyed it well enough to keep it up through high school, it wasn't her thing. The opportunity to use the minimal skills she still retained were few and far between.

For the first several turns around the room she'd concentrated on the beat, somewhat looking at her feet or the wall, counting out steps in her head, but by the fourth go around her confidence was high enough that she looked up at her partner, who was staring at her with the strangest look.

As she opened her mouth to ask what was wrong he let go of her shoulder and deftly led her into a turn. It was sloppy because she was surprised but easily stepped back into the rhythm when he pulled her back into position.

This time their bodies a little closer than before.

His eyes found a spot over her shoulder as they continued to move, she recognized the look on his face, he was thinking, parsing something out in his head.

And even while doing that he still navigated them around, executing another turn - this time more successfully because he telegraphed his intent with body language and she was not surprised.

As they moved around, Watson smiled widely. It was a rare day that Sherlock did something like this, something that could almost be called…fun. Even if it was for some kind of research, here they were, dancing around the brownstone. Based on the look on his face, Sherlock was enjoying it as much as she was.

The piece ended and reluctantly she started to pull away from him, surprised when he didn't release her hand, instead holding her in place.

Another song started, this time a foxtrot and they resumed their position, though now their bodies touching. It was a relatively quick foxtrot and while she did her best to keep up, several times she lost the beat and struggled, nearly stepping on his toes.

Suddenly he stopped and his lips were at her ear, she involuntarily shuddered, which clearly did not go unnoticed by Sherlock who tightened the hold. "Stop counting, Watson. Just feel the music and…move."

They briefly made eye contact before he counted down the time and on one they started again, this time Watson focusing on the music and melting into him just slightly, allowing Sherlock to _really_ lead her.

For several minutes they simply moved around the room, when he started to spin her, Watson laughed and smiled widely at him. Startlingly he smiled back at her and her breath caught in her throat. It was a rare day that Sherlock Holmes gave her such a wide, genuine smile.

The rest of the foxtrot went far too quickly and before they knew it, the song was over, but they were so reluctant to stop that neither moved from the hold they remained in. She was not unaware of the electricity cackling between them and based on the expression on his face, neither was he.

As he started to step back from her the music started again, this time with a tempo that Watson immediately recognized though Sherlock's face wasn't so sure. This was one of her favorites, and he'd pulled her into this…

"It's a cha cha, Sherlock," she said with a wide smile. "Can you handle it?"

He looked almost offended. "I have studied all the movements from several of the most popular types of ballroom dance, the cha cha being one of them."

Swiftly she grabbed his hand and pulled him more to the center of the floor.

"Watson, while I am familiar with the steps I am unsure this is a good-"

But she ignored him and when the beat suited her, Watson led with her hips, forcing him to move in time with her.

"Keep your eyes on me."

Annoyed that she now had the upper hand in _his_ experiment, he was slow to bring his eyes to hers. But when he did the pure joy in her deep browns had him smiling and doing as she requested, following her lead.

Within a minute he had the steps down but sensed she wasn't challenging him enough.

"You're holding back," he said and managed to pull them closer, as the dance required.

"Shut up and dance with me."

For several minutes they danced in a relatively tight space, Sherlock keep their bodies together as much as possible. It was odd, the feeling that had settled in his chest. The closest word he could come up with to describe it was contentment. Here with his partner in his arms, dancing with him in the middle of their shared living space he was…content. Maybe even leaning toward truly happy.

Which, if he was honest, was not an emotion he felt on a regular basis – it had happened often with Moriarity but now he dismissed those moments as fakery, not counting. Much of his life was difficult (often of his own making), so moments of pure bliss like this were few and far between.

It came as no surprise to him that in this case the moment was caused by her. Watson. As of late his feelings toward her had become somewhat muddled, for a long time he held a certain amount of fondness for her, but lately the fondness seemed to be…deeper. More meaningful. She was the one person he could count on to back him up, even in his most insane moments.

Suddenly the song ended and she took a step back, still smiling at him. He was torn between disappointment in the song (and therefore research) ending and happiness at the smile it had brought to her.

Impulsively he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her cheek, pulling away only after it had gone on long enough to wander out of "friendly" territory.

"Thank you for assisting, Watson. I shall type up my notes now."

She looked shocked at his action but was still smiling. "You are welcome."

As he started to walk away, Sherlock paused and turned to look at her. "We should do that again some time."

"I think I'd like that very much."

He nodded thoughtfully and turned to the office area mentally debating when he would require "follow up" for his research.

Soon, he expected. Very soon.

END


End file.
